


True Colours (stars fall at my feet)

by Ardatli



Series: Six Shades of a Rainbow [1]
Category: Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Bathroom makeouts, F/F, Girls Kissing, PWP, Post-Movie(s), Seniors in high school makes 'em both 18 for this, and we get a ratings change, chapter two carries on, started as smut ended up a character study?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardatli/pseuds/Ardatli
Summary: Wherein Kim decides they need to learn CPR, Trini gets dragged along for the ride, and a few more secrets come to light.





	1. True Colours

**Author's Note:**

> This started with a complaint about why no-one considered doing CPR on Billy during the dock scene, changed into an excuse to write girls kissing, and then became more of a Trini character study. I'm still not 100% sure what it is, in the end, but I like it.

“It’s not enough that we have to be here every Saturday morning, so you signed us up for all day Sunday as well?” Their footsteps echoed down the school’s empty hall, and Trini stomped harder, made the sound louder. It drowned out the faint murmur of voices from the gym; hadn’t been the point, but it was a nice side effect.

Kim didn’t seem like she noticed. She nodded instead, that earnest _I totally know what’s best for us_ confidence oozing out of every pore. It had been the same on the phone when she’d proposed the idea in the first place, and it had made sense. But now that they were actively here, Trini was having serious second thoughts.

“After what happened to Billy, we need this. Look-” Kim stopped walking and grabbed Trini’s arm to make _her_ stop as well. She left her hand on Trini’s elbow and the warmth of the contact bled through the sleeve of Trini’s shirt, searing into her skin.

Trini pulled her arm away.

Kim blinked, something almost like hurt in her eyes for a flash of a second before it was gone. “Look,” she repeated, as though Trini hadn’t been listening the first time. “I can swim, right? I took all the lessons, even did my lifeguarding. And I still panicked. Like, _completely_ panicked. I couldn’t remember anything at all, not CPR, not rescue breathing, nothing. And a year ago, two months ago! I would have said that I was totally ready for any kind of emergency. Except I wasn’t. And if I had been, if I’d been able to keep it together, maybe we’d have Billy — _and_ Zordon. He’s still trapped because of something I didn’t do.”

“You don’t know that.” Because she didn’t, and even if they’d done everything right —if there was a single right way to do anything, which Trini seriously doubted—there was every chance that something else would have gone wrong. Life was like that. She glanced up and down the hall quickly, carefully, made sure they were still alone. “Whatever Rita did to him, it was more than just drowning. And taking a first aid class isn’t going to help us against that kind of power.”

“No,” Kim agreed, irritatingly enough. “But it’s one more thing we can do, to be as ready as we can be. For next time.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time with Jason. You sound just like him.” The shot of irritation straight through her chest, that was jealousy. But what else could anyone expect? Kim and Jason might not officially be The Cheerleader and The Star Quarterback anymore, but everyone knew that was how the story was going to end.

“What is with you today?” Kim frowned at her, and Trini looked away. Pulling her beanie down lower over her hair helped, at least to have something to do with her hands, but it didn’t fix the _awareness_ she had of Kim beside her. A feeling that had nothing at all to do with the power coin that still resonated in her pocket whenever one of the others was close.

“Let’s just say I’m not exactly looking forward to spending three hours wrapping myself in pretend bandages and watching videos where someone’s eye ends up in a paper cup.”

“Oh my God, that’s gross.”

“Seriously. My dad’s company makes some of those training videos, and there was this whole thing where a guy got a pencil in his eye, and it-” she mimed twisting her hand and Kim pretended to gag. Or maybe not; it looked pretty real, so Trini stopped tormenting her. For now. Puke on shoes was not a good look.

“There’s something deeply wrong with you.” But Kim smiled when she said it, enough that she probably didn’t mean it.

“You said it, princess, not me.”

“Come on.” Kim tucked her arm through Trini’s before she could pull away and started tugging her down the hall.

She didn’t notice (didn’t want to notice, more likely), the way Trini’s whole body stiffened up at her touch. The way Trini’s heart started beating faster like the traitor that it was. The lump in her throat, because this was all she would get. Arm in arm, sure, but never hand in hand. Friends, team-mates, ‘gal pals.’

Maybe, given time, it would settle in to being enough.

“Tell me the guys are going to be here, at least. That it won’t just be us and a bunch of freshman from Shop class.” If Zack was here, that would be alright.

He knew before she’d told them, and once in a while, during training, she’d catch _him_ watching _her_ watching Kim. He never said anything, but he didn’t have to. He just smiled, a sympathetic grin that said more than ‘I know what you’re thinking.’

His smile said ‘I understand.’ And that was more, in itself, than she’d ever had before.

“I don’t think so. Jason asked Billy to help him work on his truck,” Kim made it as far as the gym door before she stopped walking. “And Zack’s doing something with his mom. So it’s a girls’ day,” she finished, entirely too perky.  “We’ll have fun.”

_Oh goody._

* * *

The really deeply annoying thing was that Kim wasn’t wrong.

It did turn out to mostly be a bunch of ninth grade boys doing their mandatory safety workshop, but they were in enough awe of Kim that they tended to cluster in a swaggery sort of herd at one side of the room and leave the girls to do the exercises themselves. And by the time Kim had rigged Trini’s arm up in a sling so tightly that it might as well have been a straightjacket, and Trini had wrapped a bandage around Kim’s head from crown to chin (yes, with breathing holes, because she wasn’t _evil_ ), they were laughing, Trini included. And things were back to normal.

New normal, because old-normal hadn’t been all that great. She’d coped with crushes before, as well; eventually they went away. So as long as she didn’t do anything stupid to screw up their friendship, or the team, then sooner or later this crush would fade and die like the rest.

So when they came back from lunch break, Trini flopped down on the gym floor, not particularly caring that Kim sat down beside her so closely that her thigh was brushing Trini’s shoulder, or that some of the minor-niners were staring.

Fine, so she cared about the thigh thing; especially the smooth slide of black nylon, and the soft cotton of her skirt. The warm broken-in smell of the leather of Kim’s jacket. Also the complicated pink straps of the bra top she’d taken to wearing lately—the way the leather edges cut into her skin _just there_ when she leaned over, leaving a faint pressure scar behind. But Kim had been the one to sit down last, and if she wanted to be close, for comfort, or because she was cuddly with her friends, Trini would take it.

_Pa-the-tic._

“Welcome back,” the teacher declared, all earnest at the front of the group, his nametag dangling from the pocket of his pleated chinos. “Now that we’ve got a handle on some of the basics of first aid, we’ll move on to the more complicated topics. Hopefully none of you will ever be in a situation where this information becomes necessary-”

“Told you. Time for eye-in-a-cup,” Trini whispered to Kim, and Kim poked her toe into Trini’s ribs. Then didn’t move her foot, not until Trini sat up to get away from the pointy, insistent pressure. _Not like there’s a metaphor here or anything._

“CPR and rescue breathing,” the teacher announced, setting up a new slide and a dummy that looked like the top half of a blow-up doll. “Meet Rescue Annie.”

Kim leaned in close, her breath tickling Trini’s ear. “Do you think he keeps the other half in a box under his bed?”

Trini snickered, they both got a dirty look from the teacher, and she bit her lip trying to keep from making comments for the rest of the short lecture.

Once he started talking about things like clearing airways, Kim went quiet and very still. She kept watching intently, and Trini pushed herself up to sit cross-legged beside her.

Was she thinking about Billy right now, about that horrible night on the docks? Had she felt the same wave of cold, of numbness and despair? That moment —that single moment—when four hearts had collectively broken?

Kim’s hands pressed into the gym floor, her fingers curling under like she was stressing, the faint sound of something like splintering wood coming from the floor below her fingertips. Trini didn’t think, just stuck her hand out and laid it overtop of Kim’s, between their knees where no-one else could see. Kim’s hand was cold, colder than anything, and Trini tucked her fingers underneath, wrapped into her palm and held tight. Kim’s head whipped around, she stared at Trini, eyes wide- until Trini glanced down at their hands together. And the four little dents Kim’s fingers had made in the glossy wooden floor.

It wasn’t fair; when Trini got embarrassed, she went blotchy. When Kim did, the tops of her cheeks flushed pink, even and striking all over. She probably even _cried_ pretty.

Kim’s cheeks flushed and she smiled, tight-lipped and sad. She turned her hand inside Trini’s and clasped it tight, lacing her fingers in between Trini’s, just like that.

And just like that, not knowing or not caring about the wave of warmth sweeping through Trini’s body, the tingles that began in her hand and low in her belly, the _wanting_ that focused tight on that single point of contact and seared a wish onto her skin—she kept holding on. And Trini couldn’t, wouldn’t, let go.

She should have. Instead she took the chance, maybe the only one she’d get, and carefully catalogued the feelings. The warmth draining from her back into Kim’s hand; the slim length of her fingers; the strength the five of them all hid inside now; the calluses on her palm from climbing rocks, throwing punches, everything good kids didn’t.

That was when Kim did something weird. She glanced over at Trini, turned her head to look, and brushed her thumb carefully, gently, across Trini’s knuckles. Like a feather, almost, light and tentative. A thank-you for stopping her from tearing up the gym floor?

Whatever she meant by it, the touch sent electric shocks up Trini’s arm, down her side, to blossom into heat deep inside.

Trini swallowed and tried to pay attention, honest to God she did, taking back her hand (slowly, reluctantly, because she was warm there, curled around Kim’s hand, the world finally, for once, making some kind of promise). She followed along in the handouts, even took a couple of notes when the teacher was looking, just to prove ... something.

Another hour and they’d be free to go. She could go up into the cliffs and run off the energy that made her legs restless and her stomach twist in on itself. Run, or sink into her poses and try to find stable ground.

“Thanks to budget cuts, we don’t have enough Rescue Annies for every one of you to have a dummy,” the teacher announced, and Trini tuned back in just in time to hear her fate get sealed. “So get into pairs, and practice the head-tilt-chin-lift, and the compressions. Don’t actually do deep compressions on your partner, or you could break ribs. But practice marking the spot, and the counting, and we’ll go a few people at a time.”

“So who gets to be a Rescue Ranger first?” Kim grinned, like she was proud of that joke, and Trini rolled her eyes. It didn’t deserve more than that, and she didn’t laugh on cue for anyone.

“This was your big idea,” Trini decided aloud, flopping down onto her back. “You do the work.” She flung her arm over her head dramatically —drowning teenager pose—and waited for Kim to come and ‘rescue’ her from the hard gym floor. She only had to wait a moment before Kim’s hands were on her shoulders, turning her over.

“Check your partner for a pulse, and listen for breathing. Ear to chest.”

This had been a mistake.

Kim’s fingers trailed along her inner arm, down the delicate, sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. She had to know, had to feel the way Trini’s pulse had started racing, her skin tingling along the lines that Kim’s touch had drawn. Trini held her breath.

Two fingers on her pulse point, Kim’s other hand cupping hers, her head bent down while she tried to count the beats—Trini could turn her head right then and press her lips against Kim’s side, the slight curve of her hip.

She didn’t. But the gentle pressure of Kim’s hands on her didn’t let up. Apparently satisfied with whatever pulse she’d counted off, she laid her head on Trini’s chest, pillowed between her breasts, supposedly listening for breath, feeling the rise and fall of Trini’s breathing.

In another world, in another life, this closeness would be something Trini had earned. It would be the end of a long day, curling around a girl who had stars in her eyes. Her heart would be something she could open, her tangled thoughts able to be put into words.

Instead she lay there until the pressure of the air inside her became too much. Kim’s head and shoulder were a comforting weight, keeping her safe and in danger all at the same time. Trini dragged in a deep breath to calm the ache of empty lungs, and Kim sat up, satisfied.

“You were holding your breath,” she accused, smiling and teasing, and Trini blinked away something in her eyes that made them sting. “Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?”

“Nope, ‘cause then I’d have to do chest compressions on you instead of taking the chance to have a nap.” Trini stretched out, clasping her hands and setting them firmly behind her head. No risk of giving in to the urge to pet her, this way.

“Oh, is that how this is?”

“Un-hunh.”

There went her smile again, a bright flash of light in a dimly-lit world, and Trini looked up at the ceiling instead.

“I’m supposed to be doing the head-tilt now,” Kim let her know, and slipped her hand behind Trini’s head alongside her own. “It’s a good thing you’re here,” she added, and something new had come into her voice. “I can _not_ imagine having to practice this part with one of the pimple brigade over there.”

“You may say you’ve reformed, but you are still totally a Mean Girl.” Trini snorted in mild derision. Because that was easier than thinking about the way Kim’s hand cupped the back of her head, better than trying to read this new, intense look in her eyes, to understand why Kim swallowed hard, her hair sweeping down over her cheek, her eyes fixed on Trini’s mouth.

“Am not.”

“Are too. Cheerleader.”

Maybe that was the bridge too far, or maybe she’d been planning it all along, but Kim shook her head. Time stretched out, Kim on her knees beside Trini, one hand tangled in Trini’s hair, the other resting possessively on the flat of Trini’s stomach. Her eyes were dark anyway, liquid brown and starlit, but now they were even darker. Their corner of the gym was away from the rest, not quieter at all, but sound dimmed in the noise of the blood pulsing in Trini’s ears.

Kim bent her head, she leaned down. Back to the class it would look like she was pretending the rescue breath, but she didn’t _pretend_ anything at all. “Not anymore I’m not,” she murmured, like she meant to be saying something else, and she brushed her lips against Trini’s. Not like she was making fun, not like she was being cruel on purpose, but like she had a secret that burned inside.

Peach, some kind of peach gloss on her lips, the hint of something cloyingly sweet; sweetness and fire that burned down through Trini’s body and left an empty shell behind.

Kim kissed her and Trini bolted upright. Part surprise, part soul-deep longing that gutted her stem to stern, part flight impulse, and she managed to clobber her head right into Kim’s forehead as she came up.

“Ow!” Kim sat back heavy on her heels and Trini scrambled to her feet. _Get away get out_ the refrain pounded in her head and reverberated down into her feet. It was that first day again, the other four in her space, chasing her down, prying her open and pulling her secrets out-

“Trini!”

She slammed through the bathroom door and slumped against the nasty green tile wall, her lungs tight no matter how deeply she tried to breathe.

Why? Kim had done it on purpose, there was no other explanation. Was she making fun? Teasing Trini, setting her up for some kind of bad joke, where everyone would point and laugh – _can’t believe you thought you had a chance._

Logic tried to fight back against the panic. Kim was her friend, her teammate. They had actually, literally sworn to lay down their lives for each other, almost died next to each other. She wouldn’t. She _couldn’t_. But Trini even being part of the team in the first place was evidence that people did all kinds of things you’d never expect.

“Trini?” Kim pushed the door open and Trini caught it before it knocked into her, held it and Kim slipped through into the bathroom with its rows of open stall doors and leaking sinks. She had followed and she was there, taking up all the space in the door, in the room, until even the air was full of her. “Is your head ok? I’m so sorry. I thought-”

The best defence was a good offense. Kim’s boyfriend had been a football player; she’d know that philosophy. “Thought it would be a good time to mess with me?” Trini took a step away and ended up with her back against the wall, her hip bumping up against one of the shitty porcelain sinks. It was cool under her hand, a ground and center she could focus on. “You haven’t changed as much as you thought. You may be off the squad, but you’re still a cheerleader.”

Kim recoiled, hurt lodging deep in her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it, queen bee.” Spitting fire was easier, safer, like pulling on her armour.

Kim shook her head and took a step back, her arms folding in front of herself. More armour rising up between them, denser than the alien metal alloys could ever be. “That’s not fair.”

“Either is kissing me when you don’t mean it!” There was too much pain in her voice with the anger, too much of her soul still stripped bare.

Kim just looked at her, her eyes wide and her lips parted, a deep line digging in between her brows. “Who said I didn’t mean it?”

_Wait, what?_

Calling it a record-screech was stupid, but the yelling between Trini’s ears went quiet, drowned out by a burst of white noise that flatlined everything she’d been screaming at herself.

“I didn’t _plan_ to do it, but I didn’t not- I meant it, okay? I like you. _Like_ like you, and I wanted to kiss you. My timing sucks, but I didn’t think it would be _this_ bad.” And now Kim was further away, another step back, her arms close around herself. Trini had done that, had made her upset, and she was absolutely sure she wasn’t hearing things properly at all.

She shook her head, pushed herself off the wall and tried to close that space. She only had one step in her before the panic took hold again, but it was duller this time, not nearly as frightened and loud. Trini furrowed her brow and looked at Kim, really looked, at her crossed arms and unsteady stance, at the way she’d pressed her lips together and at the fear in her eyes.

_Oh._

“What about Jason?” There was still that question, the elephant that Trini had never actually addressed, because the answer was so obvious.

Except Kim frowned, but she didn’t back up again. “What _about_ Jason?”

“You two are...” Trini gestured in the air, her words trailing off.

“No!” Kim shook her head, the furrow beginning to clear from her forehead, like there was something she understood, now, when Trini was getting more confused by the second. “I mean, maybe there might have been, once? If things were different? But no.”

“Different how?” As if the answer would change the map of the situation.

Kim looked down at her shoes, then up again, and this time there was something more like hope lingering there. Hope and a small smile, because charm was something she’d always been able to wield, a weapon as innate as teeth and claws. “If I didn’t know you?”

Trini snorted. “See, that’s still not funny.”

But now she was starting to see that map in her mind’s eye. They started to connect, the trails forming between the pins—marking things they’d said, the things Kim was saying _here_ , all the bits and moments of the day, the last week, the month- everything that might have been leading up to this, here, now.

Had she been ignoring the obvious all this time?

“I can be funny,” Kim offered, dropping her arms. Her shoulders relaxed, came down from up around her ears, and she moved forward again, into Trini’s space again, because she’d never had to worry about pushing in where she wasn’t wanted. Everyone always wanted Kim. “If you want me to be.”

Forget teasing. “How about honest, can you be that?” Trini didn’t back up, even as Kim closed the distance between them and stopped only an inch or two away.

She nodded, slowly. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“So lay it on the table, Kim. What is this?” _Don’t assume because I want you that I’m going to make this easy._

To her credit, Kim didn’t joke, or deflect, or turn the question back around. She took a deep breath instead, her weight shifting into a ready-stance in a way Trini only recognized because they’d been sparring almost daily for weeks. _Your turn for fight-or-flight? Is it that important to you?_

 _Oh,_ again.

“This...” Kim began, hesitating for a beat before she gathered up her courage and pressed on. “This is me, asking you out. And hopefully, kissing you again, because that was nice, but ending with a near-concussion is not exactly ideal.”

She’d done it, she’d actually said the words Trini had never in a million years expected to hear, and now she was the one thrown. “Right,” she said, buying herself some time. As if another ten seconds was going to make anything easier. “And the bathroom is? This place has at least fifty different kinds of plague virus layered on the floor alone.”

It wasn’t a yes but it wasn’t a no, either. “So get off the floor.” Kim moved closer and Trini stepped back, ending up with her butt half-on and half-off the edge of the sink. It held her weight, anchored into the wall with steel bolts to stop generations of students from doing stupid things, and sitting on it helped bring her up closer to Kim’s height.

“This isn’t any better,” Trini grumbled, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing. And not from fear, this time, but a tingle that was spreading, born of anticipation and an unfamiliar thread of longing that felt an awful lot like hope. So because hope was a liar, Trini lifted her chin and stared Kim down. Challenge given. “You sure about this? Are you really ready to become a freak?”

And that brought the smile, quirking up in the corner of her mouth at first then blossoming across her face, even her eyes alight with it. “I already am.” Kim planted her hands on the wall on either side of Trini’s head, capturing Trini between her arms. It was already verging on too much, this sense of safety that washed over her and did battle with the panic and the fear that were tangling up her insides.

Kim leaned in and Trini surged forward, only this time their heads didn’t collide. They met in the middle, at first with a tentative brush of their lips, searching for that connection. Soft; Kim’s lips were soft and sweet, her lower lip full. Trini slid forward and grabbed Kim’s jacket to stop herself from falling even as the world seemed to tip sideways.

The second try went deeper, the spark, the hope igniting. Trini traced the top of her tongue along Kim’s lips and she opened, let Trini taste her mouth, the slick heat of her. And thank God Trini was sitting because her knees were jelly, her chest tight.

Kim’s hands found their way to Trini’s hair, her beanie long since dropped somewhere, tangled in her curls and held her in place. Kim’s turn now, to taste, dive deep, claim Trini’s mouth as hers the way it had always been marked for her.

Long before they’d ever met, Trini had been waiting for this. For something just. like. this. For the leather jacket clenched in her hands, Kim’s leg finding its way between her thighs, for knowing the one girl in the world from whom she’d never have to hide—who could take every strength she had and feed it back.  

She’d never imagined having so any secrets that would need hiding, but Kim was already a part of every single one.

(It wouldn’t take much movement at all to let go of one side of her jacket, to slide her hand inside and cup Kim’s breast, to brush her thumb across the tip the way Kim had been caressing her hand back in the gym. Put her mouth to it and tease — the sheer force of the need that woke in her burned up from her core and clenched her throat tight.)

“Now you know my secret identity too,” Kim murmured as the kiss subsided, a force of nature all its own. She didn’t let go, her hands secure and solid behind Trini’s head, cupping her face, keeping her present. Their foreheads touched, the contact a grounding point, and Trini slowly lowered her hands, away from temptation, to rest on Kim’s hips.

That wasn’t much better, frankly, but she could get into slightly less trouble that way.

“Oh yeah?” she murmured back, her breath still tight and coming in hitches. Sense started to return even though her blood still ran hot, her body crying out at her for some kind of touch, more than this. Trini let go and tipped her head back, just enough to make real eye contact even though their bodies didn’t move. “This is your big final secret? The ex-head cheerleader is gay?”

_Look at me now; couldn’t even think the words months ago. Now I’m outing someone else._

Kim’s eyes closed and she drew in a breath that sounded as wrecked as Trini felt. She dropped her hands, slid them down Trini’s arms instead. “I don’t know? I. I don’t think so?” And that sounded so familiar that Trini didn’t even panic, though the urge was there, below the surface. “Bi, maybe?” She said the word like it was easy, and at the same time the hardest thing in the world. Her next question came out soft, tentative and hurting. “Is it okay if I don’t actually know the answer to that yet?”

“Yeah.” Trini nodded, because she was the same, caught between two poles— in the craving for a word that would explain it all, and the knowing that the only thing she was sure of was this girl, this kiss, this moment in time. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s okay.”  

Another kiss, then, this one Trini led. She leaned into it, tasted the corner of Kim’s mouth like this was a thing she was allowed to do, now. Then—her jaw, the corner right up beside her ear. Her perfume lingered there, because of course she wore perfume to a volunteer first aid seminar. Vanilla. Vanilla and peaches, and the reminder that they weren’t sophisticated at all, just a couple of kids making out in the girls’ bathroom on an otherwise dismal Sunday afternoon.

Kim made a soft noise at the press of Trini’s lips, and that little gasp set Trini on fire for her again. But not here—any minute now they’d be caught, any minute now their bubble-world would break.

So she pulled back instead, tried to control her breathing, focus on the cool ceramic of the sink underneath her butt, the press of Kim’s thigh between hers (not helpful), the faint pressure lines on Kim’s skin from the straps of her halter.

The straps started at the ring at her throat, vanished beneath the loose neckline of her grey tank top, carving pink arcs across her breasts. She couldn’t help herself, traced a single fingertip down one of those straps, followed the edge where it met her skin, the demarcation of soft and rough. Kim had tipped her head to one side and was watching, and the pulse that beat at her throat hammered double-time under Trini’s touch.

Trini bit her lip, lost in the feel of Kim’s skin beneath her fingertips. She slipped one finger beneath the strap and followed it down, down to the start of the swell of Kim’s breast before she stopped. “I really like this thing,” she confessed, and naturally _now_ was when her face would start to go hot with a blush.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How much?” Kim was teasing her, _flirting_ with her, the light in her eyes something Trini wanted to see all the time.

“A lot, okay?”

Kim didn’t seem offended at all, or even annoyed; she crowded Trini closer, her hips bumping up against the top of Trini’s thigh. Trini arched into her, couldn’t help it, Kim was so close to her now and she needed the pressure, the friction. And Kim moved with her. They ground together, Kim riding her thigh—right there in the bathroom, Trini still half-supported by the sink, her hands slipping around to press flat against the sweet curve of Kim’s lower back, everything tight and aching.

“Got it,” Kim murmured.

“Are you sure?”

“Maybe not. Explain it again.”

The loud banging on the bathroom door was a bucket of cold water on the moment, and Trini pushed Kim away at the same time as she let go. “Girls! Is everything all right in there?”

“Yes!” they chorused together, Kim frantically finger-combing out her hair in the mirror and Trini landing on her feet, straightening out the places where her shirt had somehow gotten tugged around.

“You’d better not be smoking in there,” came the warning, and Trini bit her lip, hard, to keep herself from bursting into hysterical laughter. Kim met her eyes and she slapped her hand over her own mouth, her shoulders shaking.

“Girls!” his voice echoed from outside, and any minute now he’d be shoving the door open and breaching the inner sanctum.

“Ready?” Kim murmured low, once they’d caught their breath. She gave Trini a once-over before tucking her beanie back down over Trini’s head. Trini did the same, twitching Kim’s hem back into place.

“Ready.” And on impulse, she reached out and grabbed Kim’s hand and squeezed it, hard. Kim squeezed back. Everything was going to be okay. Not okay. Great.

Kim let go and straightened her back, but she winked at Trini, just once, as the Queen Bee persona came back over her. It was kind of magnificent, now that Trini knew what lay underneath. Kim pulled open the bathroom door and sailed past the teacher, Trini in her wake.

“Sorry,” Kim gestured breezily, dismissing him even as he fumed at them. “ _Girl_ troubles.” And that was enough to make him sputter and turn red, leaving them to get a few paces ahead and out of earshot in no time. “Look,” Kim said, pausing before she pushed open the door to the gym. “My parents are at some kind of benefit party tonight...”

Confident, sure, beautiful—and _hers._ At least for the moment, which was all any of them could ask for. Trini crooked her mouth up in a grin. “If you promise not to change out of the pink thing before I get there.”

“Cross my heart.” Kim winked, Trini caught herself _actively laughing_ , and they headed back inside.

The thick grim mood that had hung over the gym before had cleared, that slim flicker of hope transfigured into something bright. They might not get forever. They were more likely to flare out, incandescent and exploding, power too great to be contained. But for this moment, for them both, _now_ was more than enough.


	2. Stars Fall at my Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The response to this fic has been blowing my mind, and I had a number of requests for a continuation. Chapter two, from Kim's POV. Less of an overt character study, more PWP, but there's some framing in here which I quite like.

Kim hadn’t begun the day intending to make some kind of dramatic declaration of her feelings for Trini, but she’d gotten a lot better, lately, at rolling with the unexpected. Given everything that had happened — to her, to the five of them, to Angel Grove as a whole—over the past couple of months, this level of surprise was actually pretty tame. 

And nothing would have to change in the grand scheme of things. They’d still go to school, do homework, train for battle against alien space monsters. All the regular everyday stuff.

She was still nervous.

Kissing Trini had felt so right, in the moment. And that was the key thing—in the moment, when she hadn’t planned anything and could blame the aftermath on getting carried away. This was different.

Her parents’ car had pulled out of the driveway fifteen minutes ago. Kim had frantically cleaned the junk off the floor in her room, jumped in the shower, just in case she was still sweaty from her run. Then she’d stood in her room, naked from the waist up and a sheen of steam leaving her skin damp. She’d looked at the strappy halter top in her hands, remembered the way Trini had _looked_ at her earlier, her pupils gone wide and lips parted, like she was hungry.

She wanted Trini to look at her like that again, like Kim was the answer to a prayer. Like she _mattered_. So she’d put the top back on, knowing even as she did it— _I’m dressing up to make Trini want to sleep with me. I invited her over to get naked._

It made the situation real, in the way a spontaneous kiss didn’t.

Kim shivered, stared herself down in her vanity mirror. _I want this. Why am I scared?_

The cold night air blew her curtains, the long, shimmery pink chiffon drapes a holdover from junior high, when she’d revelled in being Daddy’s little princess.

How quickly things changed.

Kim broke the staring contest she was having with herself, and grabbed for one of the lipsticks lined up in the caddy. Popping the top off, she caught a flash of the dark burgundy colour. A power colour, the girl at the makeup counter had called it. 

Maybe – maybe not that, tonight.

She dropped it back in the caddy and a noise sounded behind her. Kim whipped around in her chair in time to see Trini boost herself easily through the window and drop to land on one knee on Kim’s bedroom carpet. She brushed off her knees as she stood, the gesture seeming more like habit than anything else, and looked around.

What would she see, this first time? Would Kim’s room reveal any secret side of her that she didn’t want to share? It was a sad mix of interior-decorator-chosen fixtures that had once appealed to her girly-girl side, and scattered evidence—her leather jacket tossed over the chair, the dark scarves tied on to the hanger in her closet door, the hard-edged steel jewellery pieces she’d started collecting—that she was still in flux. An adult still in the making.

Or what it really boiled down to when she wasn’t over-thinking things: _please don’t judge me because I liked pink ruffles when I was twelve._

“Nice entrance,” Kim said instead of any of that, and Trini grinned.

“Nice place,” she replied, but there wasn’t any teasing or malice in it. “I still haven’t finished putting my bedroom back together after Rita’s stupid temper tantrum.” Trini didn’t have her schoolbag with her, only a small purse, and she ditched that nonchalantly on the floor. She headed for Kim and Kim stood, that paralyzing insecurity fading away.

“Your parents are making you do it by yourself?”

Trini only shrugged, in that infuriating way she had of avoiding questions she didn’t feel like answering. It was better than running, probably, but still just as unhelpful. “I get to do what I want that way.” She reached Kim and trailed the back of her hand across Kim’s knuckles, a brief fly-by caress. “It’s better than listing to my mom bitch about how ungrateful I am.”

Which on the whole was more than Trini had ever told Kim—or any of them probably, except maybe Zack—about what life was like at home. “I’m sorry that she sucks,” Kim offered, wanting to put her hand on Trini’s back, not sure if she should.

Trini shrugged again. “Whatever. It’s not news.” She frowned, but she was looking at the wall next to Kim’s mirror, not at her. The squares of brighter pink paint stood out against the slightly sun-faded rest of the wall. The photographs that she’d pinned there over the years were shreds now, dumped in the garbage weeks ago. Another life left behind. Trini reached out, traced one of the lines in the paint, then glanced back at Kim over her shoulder. “Getting rid of evidence?”

“Starting fresh. New purpose, new friends, new me.” It seemed like the right moment to take Trini’s hand, then, press her palm against Trini’s and curl her fingers in like she had before. “In a lot of ways.”

Except Trini frowned again, looking at their hands like she was trying to read something into the gesture. She didn’t pull her hand back, though; she stayed there with her fingers loosely laced into Kim’s. “It’s that easy to wash it all away? Your old friends, everything?”

What was she thinking? Kim wished more than ever that one of the powers they’d received from the morphing grid had been telepathy. Even if she could only use it once, only for a few seconds, just to have some idea of what was going on behind Trini’s wary eyes. All she had to go on was words; words and the way Trini was still holding her hand.

“No,” she admitted, the uncensored truth. “It’s not easy at all. But if I don’t try, then I’ll stay being that Mean Girl you accused me of this morning. Which—you weren’t wrong, by the way. I was being cruel. And that’s one of those things I _have_ to get rid of.”

“Okay, that’s fair.” Trini nodded, and some of that wariness faded. Score one for honesty. “What else is part of your big renovation plan?” She still hadn’t taken her hand back, and Kim closed her fingers to hold on tighter. A little tug, and Trini stepped into her space.

“I was thinking a girlfriend might be pretty cool.” They were almost as close together now as they had been in the bathroom only a few hours before, when Trini had kissed her back and stars had burst behind Kim’s eyes. A whole universe of potential had opened up in only a couple of minutes.

Trini had the most ridiculous lashes; it was a dumb thing to be fixating on right then and there, but it was true. Dark and lush, sweeping shadows across the tops of her cheekbones when she glanced down. Eyeliner winged out on either side and cast her eyes into something darker, golden and rare. She hadn’t been wearing makeup earlier. Kim would have noticed. Was this for _her_?

(Boys didn’t do that sort of thing; at least not the guys she’d dated before. You were lucky if they wore jeans instead of track pants on a date.)

Trini didn’t answer her, not directly, but she traced the line of the strap of Kim’s pink top with her free hand, lingering on the ring, then back out to her shoulder. Goosebumps popped up along the path her fingers took, a delicious hot shiver chasing along Kim’s spine. Kim must have made some kind of sound, maybe her breath, because Trini glanced up, huge brown eyes framed with those ridiculous lashes, and that glimmer of a smile crooked up one corner of her mouth. “Yeah,” she said quietly, then, “it might.”

It was as good as a yes, frankly, and Kim’s heart skipped at least a couple of beats before trying to catch up, double-time. Her concerns and questions faded, lost in the honey-depths of Trini’s eyes and the glossy fullness of her mouth. And then there was really no other option but to kiss her.

Kim leaned down —and that was new; she was used to being the shorter one—and pressed her lips to Trini’s. Closed-mouth, careful, testing the edges of this trembling new thing that was only just being born.

That didn’t last. Trini snaked one arm around her neck like she’d been waiting for this moment. She parted her lips, teased at Kim’s lips with her tongue, and all the heat and _wanting_ from this afternoon rushed back full-force.

The ache slammed through Kim like a lightning bolt, bringing the urge to get closer, to feel Trini’s body tight against hers. _Desire_ , and _want_ , more intoxicating than being the one who was wanted.

Her chest felt tight, heat pooling in her groin, one hand closed tight around Trini’s and the other in her hair, holding her in place while their mouths met. Trini’s other hand, Kim slowly realized, was tangling in the straps of her top, slipping down towards her breast.

“Is this a hint?” Kim laughed breathlessly. “You’re into leather?”

Which was when she learned that Trini could actually be made to blush, under all that swagger and stubbornness. Her cheeks went red first, then the tips of her ears, and it was so ridiculous and endearing that Kim couldn’t help but smile. But there was that diffident shrug again, the one that she used to mean so many different things. She pulled away but didn’t let go of Kim’s hand. “What, because of that? It’s cute and tough at the same time. Like...” she paused, then looked up at Kim with a look of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Hello Kitty in bondage. Or if you had a box of hardcore tentacle porn shoved under that pink princess bed.”

Kim followed her the handful of steps across the room, to the bed that was _not_ all that princessy. “Both of those images are incredibly disturbing.”

Trini snorted. “You haven’t spent any kind of time on the internet if that’s what you find disturbing.”

“I’ve seen things,” Kim objected, but ease and the playfulness with which Trini was smiling at her now drove the urge to argue out of her mind.

“Mm-hmm.”  Trini poked Kim in the shoulders, freeing her hand to do it. Kim found herself moving back again, until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She sat down, startled, and Trini made a small, satisfied sound. “There, tall person.” It made her taller than Kim now, and she stepped in so that Kim’s legs were between hers, her arms resting easily on Kim’s shoulders.

A heartbeat, a second one, and she almost seemed like she was gathering her courage, so Kim did it for her. She slid her hands up Trini’s thighs, smoothing the fabric of her jeans over her thick, solid curves. Trini was as strong as she was and twice as fierce, a hurricane bottled in a half-pint jar.

There was nothing at all to be scared of in this; not Trini, not here. Kim tugged Trini into her lap and she went willingly, offering no resistance. She slid onto the bed, her knees on either side of Kim’s hips, the press of her breasts warm and deliciously forbidden all at once.

There was nothing tentative at all about the next kiss, or the one after that, Trini’s teeth grazing Kim’s lower lip, her tongue darting in to taste Kim’s mouth with flickering, teasing touches.

Trini cupped Kim’s breast, traced her thumb around the nipple. Both nipples drew up tight and a soft gasp of air pulled from her throat, partly from the touch, partly the surprise at how quickly her body reacted.

If Trini could do it, so could she. Kim ran her hands up Trini’s sides and under the seams of her jacket, pushing it from her shoulders. Trini shrugged out of it the rest of the way and dumped it on the floor. She had a different shirt on than earlier, a slinky jersey knit thing that cupped her breasts and clung at her waist, the low cowl neck skimming the top swells of her breasts. “You do have girly clothes after all.”

“Special occasions only, don’t get used to it,” Trini tossed her hair back, but she was smiling as she kissed Kim again, her thumb still circling Kim’s nipple. Tingling and bright, the sensation swirled and expanded through her, tangling Kim’s insides into knots.

Kissing was one thing, touching was another, even though Trini’s hands were on her and her body thrilled to it. She was being ridiculous. All she had to do was move her hand, there—Trini rocked up on her knees when Kim touched her, first with one hand then both, the round, heavy weight of Trini’s breasts filling her hands. She wanted- _more_ , of this, of touching, of the hard pebbled poke of Trini’s nipples into her palms, to see her undressed and gloriously beautiful, spread out on Kim’s pink bed.

Trini had her shirt in a death grip now, her fingers closed tight and almost white-knuckled as Kim touched her, caressed her, ran her mouth down the length of Trini’s throat and – and paused before dragging the neckline of her shirt down.

“Have you done this before?” It wasn’t quite the question she needed to ask- that one was much more selfish ( _am I doing this right, are you comparing me to someone else in your mind?_ ). But it was as close as she could get without being petty, or exposing herself for the insecure mess that she was.

Trini looked down at her from above, her hair falling in walnut-sheened waves over the pair of them. “Not – everything. You?”

Kim shook her head and Trini looked incredulous, like she was about to call Kim out on a bald-faced lie. “Not with another girl.” And then, more important to know, “How far is okay?”

The soft whisper of Trini’s fingertips across her lips made every worry vanish. “I’ll tell you if there’s a problem?”

A breath of relief punctuated Kim’s reply, the moment getting easier to manage every time Trini answered without laughing, gave her honesty without game-playing. She’d been scared of something without knowing why, and now all that fear was ebbing away. “Works for me.”  

She couldn’t say exactly whether it was Kim, or Trini, or both of them together who started tugging at shirts after that, permission given and received, but Kim’s tank top ended up on the floor, Trini’s shirt hanging off the end of the bed. Kim was definitely the one who pushed Trini’s bra strap off her shoulder and brought the satiny fabric down with it, exposing her breast to the cool of the air. And then she had to stop for a minute, the burning, throbbing ache between her thighs desperate and wild.

_Beautiful,_ she wanted to say, and _I could die here, tonight, with my mouth on your skin and your fingers in my hair, and die happy_.

But since she was fumbling for breath and Trini had a hand on her thigh, what came out was more along the lines of “Your boobs are amazing.” Because they were, really, and words were hard. High and full, bigger than Kim had expected from the baggy t-shirts Trini usually wore, her skin golden brown and nipple large and dark against it—

Kim wanted, so she took, mouthing at Trini’s skin, running her tongue down and around the curve. Trini’s back arched and she dug her fingers, in to Kim’s shoulders. Kim sucked Trini’s nipple into her mouth, rolled it over her tongue, and drew a cry out of Trini that made her own breath catch.

Overcome; that was the word for the wave of lust that broke over her then. She was overcome with the urge to flip Trini to her back, to find some way inside her, to press and fill her, claim and mark her- _mine._

She found the button on Trini’s jeans instead, her hand shaking, her teeth pressing soft against Trini’s breast, her tongue playing across the tip. Trini was rocking on her now, hips not touching anything; she couldn’t sit without losing Kim’s mouth. But her jeans were loose-cut enough that when the button finally – finally! – popped open, Kim could slip her hand inside.

Trini was wet, and God, the face she made! Eyes tipped up to the sky, wonder and bliss, her head back and throat arched – Kim sucked at her skin, tasted the salt beading there, pressed her forehead against Trini’s shoulder. She could look down from here, between the gorgeous curves of Trini’s breasts and see some of what she was doing, the heat of Trini’s body fierce against her palm.

Her panties were damp to the touch, the cotton slipping along her skin, but the heat burned through anyway. Trini cried out and pushed her mons against Kim’s hand, her breathing fast and unsteady. Kim traced the elastic edge of her panties, followed it down to the hollow of Trini’s thigh. _There, what I want and what she wants- all I have to do is this-_ and she tucked two fingers beneath the elastic.

It wasn’t weird at all, touching Trini – it was like touching herself, only _better_. Because it was Trini biting down on her lip again, Trini’s clit she was rubbing with slick-wet fingers, Trini who was digging her nails into Kim’s shoulders and muttering something in Spanish that sounded obscene.

Kim was hot, her groin aching, nipples pulled up tight and every inch of her skin tingling and sensitive just from the sight, Trini’s clothes half-off and the rest pushed aside, her nipples dark pink against the golden brown of her skin. Kim rolled her tongue over the tip of one, then the other.

Trini cried out, rocked her hips, and Kim’s hand slipped further down. Trini’s clit ended up against the webbing of her thumb, her fingers slid between Trini’s lips, and if she crooked her fingers just like _that_ -

She was inside, _inside her_ , only to the first knuckle but oh God, it was no wonder boys liked this sort of thing, because the surge of power and need crashed over her bigger than any breaking wave at the shore.

_I’m fucking you, I’m inside you-_ fingers, not a cock, but it was fucking all the same, under her skin and teasing shudders from her body.

Trini opened for her, no resistance at all, her pleasure marked by the red flush creeping down her chest, the cries that Kim pulled from her throat, the beads of sweat glistening on the skin between her breasts.

And yeah, Kim didn’t need to speak Spanish at all to know that whatever Trini had cried out just then was something utterly filthy. And Kim was doing this to her- it was her hands, _her_ mouth taking Trini apart. (And that was an idea, maybe for next time – if she was good enough now, maybe Trini would want a next time-)

“Come on,” she urged, crooking her fingers again, sliding a little deeper. Trini fucked herself down on Kim’s two fingers, deeper with every rock of her hips. She buried her hands in Kim’s hair and kissed her mouth, sloppy and frantic.

“Please,” Trini gasped out, something broken and vulnerable in there, and Kim put her mouth to Trini’s breasts again. She sucked Trini’s nipple into her mouth, rolled the hard nub across her tongue, teased and suckled at her until – _there_ , she fucked Trini harder and she gasped, grinding down hard.

“Please,” Trini begged again. The air was thick with the musk of sex, her hand slick with Trini’s desire, and Kim would do anything, _anything_ to give this girl everything that she ever needed.

Trini’s whole body stiffened, held, and then she was convulsing around Kim’s fingers in waves Kim could _feel_. She shook, she dug her nails in to Kim’s back, and buried her face in Kim’s neck.

Kim always liked- would Trini? – she slipped her fingers in and out a few more times, gentle, slower, and Trini did it again, convulsed and cried out, bit down hard on Kim’s shoulder.

After that, she didn’t move.

The zipper on Trini’s jeans was cutting in to Kim’s wrist; had been for a while, but she hadn’t cared. Now, though, she took her hand back, already missing the heat and the rush. Trini’s hips rocked, following the movement of Kim’s hand, and then she let out this long, happy sigh as she settled down into Kim’s lap, her knees collapsing.

Clothes all in disarray, her shoulder stinging and wrist sore, Kim flopped back onto the bed and held her. Trini sprawled across her, one leg on either side of her thigh, and Kim rubbed her back with the palm of her hand moving in slow lazy circles.

She still wanted, she still burned, but this was good too, for the moment—Trini’s breath hot on her throat, her curls tickling Kim’s nose, her hand searching for and finding Kim’s and lacing their fingers together.

Kim could easily, happily, give her this.

The world spun down, the insistent throb of her pulse slowing, Trini’s weight on her —the press of her thigh between Kim’s—a promise of things to come.

Until Trini let go of Kim’s hand and propped herself up on her elbows, staring up at Kim from somewhere down between her breasts. “Pretty good, for someone who’s never done it before,” she said lightly, a faint thrum of mistrust somewhere buried, deep down so far she’d probably deny it.

“With another girl,” Kim corrected her, her own voice light and breezy. “But messing around with teenage boys? You get really good at figuring out how to get yourself off later.” That caught Trini off-guard and made her snort a laugh, making everything all right.

“Then I won’t say I’m grateful, because anyone that selfish didn’t deserve you in the first place.” And that declaration stunned Kim into silence for a moment, as close to a real confession of feelings as Trini had ever made.

And because she wasn’t really a words-person, that was when Trini sat up, trailing her fingertips down between Kim’s breasts, down her stomach, along the top of the waistband of her skirt. She hit a ticklish spot and Kim convulsed, laughing. At least until Trini’s hand wandered down further, brushed her skirt higher up on her naked thigh.  

Kim’s laughter faded away, replaced by heady anticipation. Trini’s touch was reverent, gentle at first then more confident, running her hand up Kim’s thigh, over her hip, along her side. Her knuckles brushed against the side of Kim’s breasts, the sensation muted by the fabric between them. Kim half-sat and unhooked the top, hauled it off over her head, the band too tight, the straps confining.

It had all been building to this, from their first look on the cliffs to the uneasy early days, then care, what Kim had tried to fool herself was friendship. There was that too, but also this, the burn that needed Trini to soothe it, the pull to be close, closer, under her clothes and skin to skin.

Trini’s kisses went from careful to incendiary. She pressed up against Kim’s side, tasted her mouth again and again, her hands never still, never settling. Kim’s breasts, her stomach, back down to her thighs and up over her hip, as though Trini were memorizing the shape of her, the way this moment felt.

She kissed Kim’s jaw, her throat, her shoulder, worked her way down with a trail of hot presses to her breast, nipped and mouthed her on one side, her hand on the other—teased her until Kim was half on the edge from this alone.

Well, mostly, Trini’s bra half-on and her jeans undone, Kim’s skirt up around her waist and nothing but the flimsy lace panties between Trini’s hand and her need. Kim arched toward her, lifted her hips and Trini still didn’t touch her there, flattening her hand against Kim’s pelvis instead.

“What are you waiting for?” Kim tried asking, but it came out breathy instead of bossy, needy instead of in control.

Trini’s eyes had gone dark, heavy-lidded and hot, and she kissed Kim long and deep instead of answering right away. “Until it can’t get any better,” she said, like that meant something important.

The ache was everything, a burn so deep that she’d never get rid of it. Trini teased at Kim’s breasts again, just- drawing little circles with the tip of her tongue, and Kim was either going to come, or she was going to commit murder. One or the other. Maybe both.

“We’re there,” she tried for bossy again, but Trini only laughed at her. Laughed and used her free hand to pin Kim’s down over her head.

“You sure?”

“Trini!”

“You’re not the boss of me.” But then, oh—she did, skimming her hand down between Kim’s thighs, pressing the heel of her hand against Kim’s clit through the lace. Lightning burned along Kim’s nerves, something powerful building in the base of her spine. Trini pushed the sides down, tugged her panties off, the air cool against her skin where Trini’s touch had made it so warm.

Then she touched her, tentative and careful, and it wasn’t nearly enough. Feet planted, Kim arched, her back tight—rocked up to meet Trini’s touch, urge her onward- more, faster-

Trini’s hand kept Kim’s wrists pinned above their heads, keeping her safe, no matter what. Kim’s eyes closed; everything was the sensation now, of Trini’s fingers rubbing circles around and on, slipping down between then back up, her mouth a vault where Kim could whisper all her secret pleas.

There it was, the edge of everything, and she dived. Her wings spread and she flew. Not empty metaphor—she knew what that was like now, and this was better even than freefall. Pleasure crashed over her, wave after wave. Desire that had been building since the bathroom, and risen up higher with Trini’s lust, now broke in the sound of thunder that was her pulse hot in her ears. 

The waves subsided, leaving her warm in the glow of the sun. (Not the sun at all but a girl in the same colours, with a smile on her face that eclipsed everything.)

And when she shuddered down from those heights Trini was waiting for her, arms wrapped around her waist.

Kim curled in, aware all at once that she was mostly naked, so was Trini, they had done _that_ and super powers or not, Kim felt very small, vulnerable and exposed. Her eyes stung; tears? Another release that had been building unanswered for far too long.

Her face was wet but Trini held her, curled around her, ran her fingers through Kim’s hair and down her back, let Kim rest her head on Trini’s bare chest. And this was better, hearing Trini’s heartbeat, arms and legs a tangle, sweat drying in prickles behind her knees and down her back as her body cooled.

The silence settled heavy over them. The world outside didn’t matter, none of it did except being here, sleepy and sated, wrapped up with Trini in a warm little universe all of their own.

She drifted there, in the space between sleep and awake, until finally Trini moved, slipped her arm out from under Kim’s head and shook it out. “Sorry; pins and needles.”

“S’fine.” The moment didn’t shatter, not the way she half-expected it to. Even as Trini sat up and looked around for her clothes, and Kim slipped to the bathroom. That energy still thrummed between them when she came back, dug a sweatshirt off the top of her laundry hamper and shoved her head into it. Trini stayed in her space even when Kim brushed against her, every touch returned.

Something uneasy began to slip in once Trini came back in the room, the baby hairs around her face wet from the sink, Kim’s rosewater soap a faint perfume in the air. She paused in the door, some kind of internal war beginning to battle it out on her face. Kim grabbed her hand instead of letting her stew over whatever she was about to say, and tugged her toward the bed. “Sit down,” she ordered. “Your hair’s all tangled in the back.”

That was better, Kim on her knees on the bed behind Trini, fit right there against her back. Some of her nerves were still buzzing, her fingertips sensitive as she tugged the brush gently through Trini’s hair. The waves spilled over her shoulders, not really all that tangled; but she tipped her head and leaned into the brush like she was being petted, so Kim was in no rush at all to stop.

“What happens now,” Trini asked, and she reached back and tucked her fingers into the crook of Kim’s knee. “School rings?” she teased, and the worry that had just started to send tendrils out to squeeze Kim’s heart vanished again. “I’m going to bet you have a letter jacket.”

“Old life,” Kim replied, aware of the jacket hanging in the back of her closet. “None of that stuff means as much as being a Ranger with you, and we’ve already got uniforms for that.” She couldn’t resist leaning in, setting the brush down and running her hands down Trini’s arms, along the curves of muscle under her soft skin. “My parents won’t get it,” she confessed softly, and Trini’s back stiffened against her chest.

“Mine definitely won’t. And the less they know about my life the better.”

“The guys?”

“They’ll be fine; you know that.” Trini took Kim’s hands and pulled them closer around her, wrapped Kim’s hug tighter. “School?”

That needed more thought. It would be a matter of seconds for Kim’s old crowd to set their sights on Trini, to turn her into a target by extension. Except that Kim hadn’t made any secret of her new friend group; everyone knew she was hanging out with Jason, Billy, Zack—the five of them as a set caused as much buzz already as any social shakeup did at Angel Grove. What was holding Trini’s hand in the hallway going to do that was any worse?

“We’re superheroes,” Kim said aloud, determination and promise in her voice. “If anyone gives us shit, I’ll kick them into space.” So there.

That won her a laugh from Trini, something free and easy; triumphant.  Kim rested her chin on top of Trini’s head and held her, sinking in to the feeling. _This is what ‘happy’ feels like. Not ‘victorious’ or ‘winning’ or ‘smug.’ I want to remember all of this._

“I’m going to hold you to that, princess.”

“As long as you do the same for me.”

“Any time.”

The sound of a car in the drive pushed Kim to her feet. She ran across the top of her bed and dropped to the floor beside her window, drew back the curtain to check what she already knew she’d see. “It’s my parents.”

Trini got up, grabbed her coat and her purse. “I should go.”

Kim peeked out again, watched them close the car doors and head up the walk. “Give them a minute to get inside or they’ll see you. I can explain having a friend over to do homework, but jumping out the window will be harder to find a story for.”

“Next time I’ll remember to bring my books.” Trini tipped her chin up, light in her eyes and a smile on her face, and the promise there— _next time, this is real, it’s really real—_ made a home in Kim’s heart.

The front door closed. “Kim?” Her father’s voice from downstairs.

“Better go,” Kim sighed against Trini’s lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You couldn’t miss me if you tried.” Trini swung her legs over and sat on the windowsill for a moment, then dropped without looking back. Kim watched her land, easily, safely, now that they knew more about what their bodies could do. Trini stopped on the lawn, turned and gave a little wave to the window, and then she was gone, running off into the night.

“Kim?” Her father was at the door and Kim turned, guilty. But Trini was long gone and there was nothing in the room to suggest what had gone on; only her rumpled sheets, but that wasn’t _proof_. He only smiled, distant and distracted. “Don’t stay up too late, honey. School day tomorrow.”

“I know,” she reassured him. “I won’t. Goodnight, dad.”

He hesitated, there in his fancy suit, his hair streaking with white at the temples, and he looked like he wanted to say something more. Except he didn’t, because they hadn’t known what to say to each other in a long time. “Goodnight.”

He closed the door when he left, and Kim sagged down to sit on the edge of her bed.

She ran her hand over the covers. Pink. A colour she’d loved, then dropped, and had been given back to her again. Her power colour.

Maybe she didn’t have to leave everything about her old self behind after all.

She stood, tugged her skirt carefully back in to place under the baggy sweatshirt, and opened her door. “Dad?” He was partway down the stairs already, Mom banging around in the kitchen. He paused, looked up at her. “How was the fundraiser?”

He looked at her, looked _at_ her, then he smiled. “Awful. Your mom’s putting coffee on. Come on down and sit with us.”

The air seemed to clear. Not completely, but it was another start.  

 

* * *

 

**_I won’t apologize / for the fire in my eyes. / Let me show you my / my true colours._ **

**_~Kesha_ **


End file.
